


Viral Fiction Donors

by InsideMyBrain



Series: stuff i probably won't finish :( im sorry [1]
Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: (lots of it actually), ASMR, Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Youtubers, Angst, Arson, Cheating, Codes & Ciphers, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Don't Take This Fic Seriously Ok, F/F, Fire, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hacking, Hypnosis, If you consider writing in emojis a code, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Infidelity, Light Angst, Meme Espionage, Memes, Mentions of Vore, Mind Control, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character, References to Animal Crossing, References to Hetalia, Revenge, Swearing, Weird Plot Shit, emoji code, mentions of Buzzfeed, that was already a tag btw and i feel like it applies here, too many italics, vlogging - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-18 07:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12383445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsideMyBrain/pseuds/InsideMyBrain
Summary: Esmé has had a rather embarrassing crush on the woman behind her favourite YouTube channel, "HypnotistASMR", for as long as she's been subscribed. When she actually meets the woman - whose name turns out to be Georgina - irl, she is surprised to learn she used to be a part of the Viral Fiction Donors. There's undoubtedly a spark between the two women, but will Georgina's aversion to memes drive a wedge between them?





	Viral Fiction Donors

**Author's Note:**

> this is 100% crack, don't take any of it seriously. i hope yall enjoy reading bc i had lots of fun writing this

Esmé Squalor, the City's sixth most important financial advisor, had a crush. It wasn't a regular crush, the kind where she fell in love with a person's body and face for a few days before moving onto the next beautiful person that caught her eye. No, it was a stomach-twisting, cheek-reddening _infatuation_ , the likes of which she hadn't had since - well, she didn't think she'd ever had a crush like this before. And to make matters worse, it wasn't even on someone she knew in person. No, she didn't even know the person _at all_. She was infatuated with the brief flashes of personality that shone through her computer screen. For the object of her affection was "HypnotistASMR", Esmé's preferred ASMRtist. 

That's right, Esmé didn't even know her _name_. It should have been the silliest, flimsiest crush she'd ever had except it wasn't. Somehow, it was the exact opposite. It felt solid, real, and grounding, and when she watched her videos, it felt like coming home. But could anyone really blame her? How could anyone else resist the charm of that soft voice, those gentle and caressing hands, and the incredible brainpower she obviously possessed. For she always had the most ingenious and creative videos, ranging from roleplays to simple trigger videos, and she was so good that Esmé always blanked out somewhere in the middle of her videos, just feeling the tingles wash over her entire body.

In short, Esmé was head over heels for a woman she knew almost nothing about.

 _This is ridiculous,_ she reprimanded herself, as she stared at the woman's beautiful face in her latest video. It was after work, and she needed cheering up before facing her piss-poor excuse for a husband. So naturally, an ASMR video was the way to go.

"Goodnight," the woman whispered, reaching towards the camera to stroke Esmé's face. "Sweet dreams." The video faded to black, leaving Esmé staring at her reflection, grinning stupidly at the screen.

Esmé chased the grin away immediately. "Shut up," she told her reflection ashamedly. Sighing, she exited fullscreen and unplugged her headphones. She decided to quickly skim over the news before logging off and attending to some other matters.

Unlike the rest of the world, it seemed, Esmé got her news from a reliable source: BuzzFeed. She went there now, scrolling through the news feed absentmindedly. She paused when she saw an article titled, "This YouTube Sketch Is So Terrible We're Figuratively Sh*tting Ourselves". Esmé grimaced when she saw the name of the person who'd written it. Why was Lemony Snicket, part-time dramatic critic and full-time loser, still showing up in her feed? She thought she'd blocked anything written by him. She clicked on it anyway, and was dismayed to learn the video in question was ItsTheCount's "Fires and Fashion: How to Make Arson In", which she'd appeared in. She read the article indignantly until Snicker criticized her voice, at which point she skipped to the comment section. Many people agreed with him, but one comment in particular jumped out at Esmé.

 _Shut the fuck up, Snickers Bar. Esmé Squalor is an extremely talented actress and we are blessed to be breathing the same air as her!!!! You just don't appreciate the subtle nuances of acting in this masterpiece of a video!! You clearly don't appreciate good writing either, since the reading comprehension of this article is for fifth graders. Go fuck yourself._  

A long comment war followed, but Esmé wasn't interested in that. What she was interested in was the name of the person who'd commented: Geraldine Julienne, another BuzzFeed contributor.

 _Huh,_ Esmé thought. _Wasn't she that fan who emailed me a few months ago?_ She opened her email to check, and sure enough, she was. She skimmed over their last few emails, in which she asked Geraldine to dig up some information on Jerome, and suddenly got an idea.

 _From: esmeisin@cityfinance.com_  
_To: gjulienne@buzzfeed.com_  
_Subject: A Favour_

 _Dear Geraldine,_  
_First of all, thank you ever so much for your comment on Snicket's latest piece of trash - someone has to battle against the slander he puts out into this world. Second, I need another favour. If you could find out the personal information of the person behind the YouTube channel "HypnotistASMR", I'd be ever so grateful. Thank you in advance._  
_Yours in fashion and finance,_  
_Esmé Squalor_

Esmé sent the email and waited. She was betting on five minutes, but Geraldine replied in three. 

 _From: gjulienne@buzzfeed.com_  
_To: esmeisin@cityfinance.com_  
_Subject: Re: A Favour_

 _Dear Ms. Squalor,_  
_You're welcome, but it was no trouble at all. It was simply disrespectful of Snicket to be so rude to you, a brilliant actress, so I just had to say something. And of course I can do you that favour. You know I'll do anything for you. :)_  
_Sincerely,_  
_Geraldine Julienne_  
_P.S.: I love the video btw!!!_

Esmé laughed as she read the email. She truly had this poor little lesbian lamb wrapped around her finger. 

Esmé shut her laptop and stood. She checked her phone and saw she had just enough time to attend to another matter. She crept (why was she creeping? This was her own home) to Jerome's study. On his desk sat his precious laptop, gleaming in the light of the setting sun like the diamonds on Esmé's necklace. It was the only reason she'd married Jerome. 

Jerome was boring. He was insipid, weak-willed, and utterly _out_. Yet Esmé had married him after only one night together - which was _terrible_ , btw. This laptop was the entire reason. A gift from his friend Jacques, she knew the only way she could access it was through marriage. This laptop was her only hope of getting her pdf file back. 

Esmé strode over to the desk, sat down, logged in, and started snooping. She began with the downloads - perhaps Jacques had downloaded the file before gifting it to her husband. Nothing. Sighing, she went into his email.

Esmé's lip turned up in a sneer as she saw several emails from her ex-friend, Beatrice Baudelaire. This wretched woman was a backstabbing bitch who'd snaked the pdf file from her.

The pdf file in question was called sugarbowl.pdf, and Esmé didn't know what it contained. No one did. They were forbidden from opening it. But it was their organization's greatest treasure, and Esmé had to have it. She'd possessed it, at one point, back when she was actively making YouTube skits on her channel, "EsmeIsIn". But it'd all gone to shit once she'd done a collab with Beatrice. She'd stolen the file right off her laptop! Ever since then, Esmé had mostly given up YouTube to get her prize back, with the exception of appearing in some of Olaf's skits. Now though, she was about to restore it to its rightful owner. She clicked on the email triumphantly. 

After scanning it for a few seconds, it seemed to be a boring update on Beatrice's miserable children. She'd just popped out a third, apparently, and it had very large teeth. _Ew_ , Esmé thought, returning to the inbox.

Jerome didn't know about the Viral Fiction Donors, so Esmé figured the location of the sugarbowl.pdf must be in code. She looked for their organization's known codes, but saw none. Then, she spotted it.

An email from Jacques, which he'd meant to send to his siblings but had accidentally forwarded to Jerome. Esmé clicked on it excitedly.

 _From: snicket.jacques@gmail.com_  
_To: bittertea@gmail.com, lsnicket@buzzfeed.com, jeromesqualor@gmail.com_  
_Subject: The sugar bowl_

 _Beatrice has just informed me that she has managed to secure the sugar bowl. However, knowing Esmé, she won't stop until she gets it back. Therefore, I think we should hide it thoroughly. It wouldn't be wise to say exactly where, but I think we can all remember the URL of Lemony's Tumblr._  
_Regards,_  
_Jacques_

Esmé snickered. Lemony's Tumblr? That was easy enough to find. She opened up Google Chrome, but stopped when she heard incessant beeping coming from her phone. She pulled it out to read the notification.

_Take selfies! The lighting in the selfie room will be at its best in five minutes!_

The sugar bowl could wait.

Esmé quickly logged off Jerome's computer and raced to the selfie room.

* * *

 Geraldine got back to her the next day.

Esmé was standing in line at a local coffeeshop (not Starbucks, never Starbucks - Starbucks was for people who were trying to be in but didn't know how) when she got the notification. She'd opened it up hurriedly, and was so engrossed in the information she didn't realize when it was her turn to order. 

 _From: gjulienne@buzzfeed.com_  
_To: esmeisin@cityfinance.com_  
_Subject" "HypnosisASMR"_

 _Dear Ms Squalor,_  
_I was able to find out much about the person behind this YouTube account! Turns out, her name is Georgina Orwell. By profession, she's an optometrist, and she lives right here in the City. Apparently, her patients are very satisfied with her work. She's been described as brusque, intimidating, and smart. I thought you might want to 'accidentally' bump into her, as you did with Mr. Squalor, so I took the liberty of finding out her habits. On Friday nights she usually has a drink at the Emerald Lion Pub, you'll probably be able to find her there between nine and eleven. Good luck!_  
_Sincerely,_  
_Geraldine Julienne_  
_P.S.: Feel free to contact me again for any other favours! I'd love to do them._

After ordering dazedly from a fed-up barista, she'd turned the woman's name over in her mind. _Georgina. Georgina. Georgina Orwell. Georgina._ It certainly wasn't the name Esmé was expecting, but it suited her.

The next thing that occurred to her was about Georgina's choice of drinking spot: was it in? After a quick Google search, she concluded that it was not. She would just have to convince Georgina to go somewhere that was in - maybe even her apartment. 

In any case, she couldn't wait to meet her. Luckily, the day after was Friday, so she didn't have long to wait. It still felt like an eternity though, as the finance day passed by sluggishly. Once she got off work, she raced home to begin planning her outfit. She ended up wearing a red cocktail dress and black heels encrusted with obsidian. She also wore a large hat, to conceal her identity as she walked in the place. It wouldn't do to be seen there.

When nine o'clock arrived, Esmé was already at the bar, sipping the innest drink they offered, which happened to be a simple metropolitan cocktail. She had been there for fifteen minutes when she saw _her_ walk in.

Long brown bob. Tortoiseshell glasses. Taller than Esmé had imagined her to be. Mauve dress, black pumps, silver hoop earrings. _Gorgeous_.

The only free spot at the bar was the one beside Esmé, and so Georgina sat there. She ordered the same thing that Esmé was having and hung her purse on the back of the chair.

"Not very good, is it?" Esmé asked, after watching Georgina take a cautious sip of the drink. "Weak."

"Yes, well, this place is convenient," Georgina said, offering her a polite smile. 

Esmé held out her hand. "Esmé Squalor. I'm a big fan of your YouTube channel."

Georgina took it, looking at her with careful scrutiny. "Georgina Orwell. I'm pleased to hear that."

"So, what do you do, Georgina?" Esmé asked, as if she didn't already know the answer. 

"I'm an optometrist," Georgina said, "and yourself?"

"Financial advisor. The sixth most important in the City," Esmé bragged. Bragging to Georgina felt strange, like a dog begging to be petted, rather than soaking in self-satisfaction as she usually did.

"Impressive," said Georgina, sipping her drink. She looked Esmé up and down before saying, "what brings you here tonight? I mean, no offense of course, but you don't exactly fit in around here." She cast a glance around at the others in the pub, mostly groups of middle-aged, working class men.

Esmé shrugged. "I was in the neighbourhood and I needed a drink."

Georgina nodded. "I know the feeling. Sometimes you need to escape to a place where the world is quiet."

Esmé blinked. _Did she really just...?_ She stared at her for a few seconds before slowly saying, "I didn't realize this was a sad occasion."

Georgina leaned forward, playing with the garnish in her drink. A trace of a smirk played around her lips. Esmé could smell her perfume, sweet and heady, and it was intoxicating. "Which side are you on?"

Esmé hesitated. What if she was on the wrong side? But looking at Georgina, she knew they were on the same side - or at least, fervently hoped. 

"Dank," Esmé whispered.

"Glad to see we're on the same page," said Georgina. 

A wave of relief washed over Esmé. "For a moment I was afraid you were on the wholesome side."

"God no," Georgina laughed. "I was, once, but those days are long gone."

"Oh?" Esmé leaned in. "Do tell."

"It's a bit of a long story," Georgina said.

"I have all the time in the world," Esmé reassured her. 

"Well," Georgina began, "I was young and idealistic. As we all were. I'd stumbled upon a hypnosis method in my research into the connection between the brain and the eyes, and immediately thought it could be of use in our organization. I practised it - _honed_ it - for years." Georgina's voice became bitter. "And when I presented it to the people I considered my friends, as a side affect free alternative to the manipulative and quite honestly abusive recruitment and training methods, they threw me out." Georgina took another sip before continuing. "I thought they would appreciate it, for all their talk of noble and wholesome memes. Apparently not. They dubbed it 'unethical', and dubbed me a villain."

"What a load of bullshit," said Esmé. "No member of VFD has done a single ethical thing in their lives."

"I know," said Georgina. "Everything they do is just manipulation with a pretty name. Although," she conceded, "you do catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

"The only thing that's different about the two sides is the memes we make," Esmé remarked. "Even though their memes are wholesome, _they_ certainly aren't."

"Agreed," Georgina said.

"So, what's your meme style?" Esmé asked, shifting closer. "Offensive? Surreal? Deep-fried, perhaps?"

"Oh, I actually don't make memes anymore," Georgina said.

"What?" Esmé said incredulously. "You don't make memes?"

"I had a bit of a... Bad dating experience with a dank mememaker," Georgina confessed. "I focus on my ASMR now."

"Hm, well I suppose ASMR is a dank meme in and of itself," said Esmé. "Can I ask who the mememaker was?"

"Count Olaf."

Esmé laughed. "I've dated him, too! Well, I don't know if 'date' is the correct term, but we had a thing." She sipped her cocktail. "So, what'd he do?"

"He stole all my jewellery and tried to fucking drown me," Georgina said darkly. "Among other things, of course, but that was the last straw. I hope he rots in hell."

"He _is_ a bastard," Esmé agreed, "but he's better than my dumbass husband." She retrieved her wedding ring from her purse, and showed it to Georgina. The diamond glinted in the dim lights of the pub. "It was _out_ when he got it, and it hasn't shown any signs of becoming in. I'm embarrassed to wear it."

Georgina raised an eyebrow. "In?"

"Fashionable. Chic. Trending. Stylish. Honestly, one would think you'd have a large vocabulary from hanging out with those wholesome nerds." Esmé smirked.

"None of those wholesome nerds were like _you_ , though." Georgina smirked back before continuing. "So, why'd you say yes?"

"Strategic reasons," said Esmé. "He has access to their correspondence, and I'm trying to find the sugar bowl."

"Good luck," said Georgina doubtfully. 

"I had it," Esmé insisted, "but it was stolen from me. And from someone I considered a friend, too."

"Let me guess - a wholesome mememaker?" Georgina asked. Esmé nodded. "Asshats, all of them."

"Indeed." Esmé drank some more of her cocktail, then changed the subject. "So, what made you decide to make your YouTube channel?"

"To refine my hypnosis technique," Georgina said, "and as a middle finger to the wholesome side." She shrugged. "I do love my petty revenge."

"You use your hypnosis in your ASMR videos?" Esmé asked, shooked. "For what?"

"For my viewers to donate to my Patreon, of course," said Georgina. "You never questioned why I was so good?"

"No, never." Esmé shook her head, as if to clear it. "When you said you used hypnosis, I assumed you used it in your optometry business."

"Assumptions are dangerous things to make," Georgina said, then leaned in. "But I _like_ danger," she purred. 

Esmé felt her face heat up. She'd always been attracted to dangerous people, and with this new piece of information she felt her attraction to Georgina increase tenfold. And it was so refreshing, after her unsatisfying marriage and a handful of one night stands whomst she wasn't even that attracted to anyway. Her mind was going a mile a minute, running through everything she wanted to do to Georgina and have Georgina do to her. She felt desire wash over her like a tidal wave. 

"I've an idea," Esmé said, "why don't we get out of here?"

Georgina's eyes seemed to bore into hers. "Where exactly are you suggesting we go?" With a thrill, Esmé realized the attraction was mutual.

"Well," Esmé replied, "my apartment has _several_ bedrooms just perfect for the kind of activities I think we'll be doing, but I could go anywhere with you."

"Your apartment sounds wonderful," said Georgina.

Esmé stood and took her hand. "Then let's go, darling."

It was raining outside, but neither of the women paid the weather much attention as they hailed a taxi. Esmé barely told the driver her address before Georgina kissed her with such urgency it left Esmé breathless. As Georgina pinned her against the door of the taxi, Esmé made a mental note to send Geraldine a little thank-you gift.


End file.
